


A Nativity Play (Making the role your own)

by okeydokey (LilMissNerdfighter)



Series: Merry Christmas from 221B [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Hamish can act, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-08
Updated: 2012-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilMissNerdfighter/pseuds/okeydokey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamish is chosen to play Joseph in his school's Nativity Play (which comes a surprise to only one of his parents). Can he successfully tackle the role (and will Sherlock actually manage to watch the play without falling asleep or making rude comments)?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nativity Play (Making the role your own)

Hamish growled in frustration and hurled his script at the wall. He didn’t understand why he had to be in the Nativity, let alone play _Joseph_. To make matter’s worse; they had abolished the narrators in favour of having singing sheep and more angels, meaning that for the first time, Joseph actually had lines! That was the only reason he had actually auditioned, rather than backing out on his friends’ dare. Now, he was lumbered with the most speaking lines in the entire bloody play (which he could learn without a problem), and people were actually going to watch it.

The only remotely funny thing about the entire palaver was his parents’ reactions to the news that he had landed the male lead (and the only role which spoke more than three lines, Mary just sang). John had looked initially a little surprised, before overcoming his shock and pulling Hamish into a tight hug, raising his eyebrows at his husband over Hamish’s shoulder- his son, _an actor_. Sherlock, on the other hand, had smirked knowingly at Hamish- he had been acting since he was a small kid, pretending to be naïve, faking tears (aged two) when he didn’t get the toys he wanted and fooling John into thinking that he didn’t read the case notes for their cases or John’s blog. He had known that his son could act, and was pleased that he had been forced into the play (thank God it wasn’t a singing role- none of the inhabitants were under the impression that Hamish could carry a tune, it was just something he simply couldn’t do). Hamish had seen these reactions and had filed them away for whenever he needed evidence that his parents were not predictable. At all.

Hamish smiled at the empty flat and went to retrieve his script. He was going to learn the stupid thing and even if it was the worst play ever, he would do his best. His parents deserved that much.

**

They had rehearsed for weeks, someone had obtained a manger and even the sheep were covered in glitter, and now it was time for the actual performance of the play. It had taken a great amount of willpower not to scream at Mary when she forgot her lines and not to yawn when it took the Angel Gabriel three times longer than necessary to deliver his announcement. But he had done it, and here he was, with a way to make the role his own (as it had said in all the books and websites he had looked at). The teachers arranged his classmates on the stage and switched the lights on. Showtime.

Hamish waited patiently through the Shepard’s tears and the three attempts to get all of the sheep off the stage (Arthur had eventually poked them with his stick until they moved in the right direction). Now, it was his turn. He found John and Sherlock sitting in the audience (Sherlock looked like he was about to start hurling abuse at the cooing parents around him, and John was struggling to look interested), and summoned the courage to say his first line. Either he was going to pull it off, or he was going to risk embarrassment and get into trouble. He took a deep breath and turned to face the Innkeeper (Rory, who had been informed of his plan was giggling already in anticipation).

‘Is there any room in the Inn?’ Hamish asked the Innkeeper, struggling to keep a straight face as his newly mastered Scottish accent echoed around the hall. There was a stunned silence, as the teachers, pupils and parents looked at him in astonishment- there was no mistaking that Joseph had, in fact, just spoken in a very Scottish accent. Hamish looked at his parents (John was trying to contain his laugher, and Sherlock was actually grinning like a madman). Good, they weren’t mad. Hamish smiled slightly, before slipping back into the character of Scottish Joseph.

‘Is there any room in the Inn?’ he asked again, watching Rory expectantly.

‘Sorry, there is no room in the Inn.’ Rory replied, regaining his composure, his eyes still sparkling. _Well done, Hamish._

And the play continued, with Hamish consistently maintaining his Scottish accent throughout the rest of the performance.

**

After the play had finished the entire cast engulfed Hamish. They were laughing and asking him to talk to them in his new accent- he ignored those who seemed put-out. His teacher smiled wearily at him, shaking her head in disbelief. _Hamish Watson-Holmes is definitely something._

When he finally emerged from backstage, Sherlock was the first one to hug him. Hamish buried his head in his father’s chest, smiling from ear to ear as Sherlock pulled him close. Sherlock hardly ever hugged his son (not that he didn’t love him, he just wasn’t overly affectionate) and so his hugs were a huge event, meaning that he had done something monumental. John watched happily from behind his family- _I love you two so much._

Sherlock released Hamish, and bent down so that he was eye-to-eye with his son.

‘You were brilliant- you made the entire thing bearable- thank you. I am so proud of you, Hamish Watson-Holmes.’


End file.
